DREGS OF MY CORPSE

I thought I sent that body down the river...
I thought she carried it all away...
But she left me the dregs...
The Ganga wanted me to bow more...
To the threads and fabrics...
Of a suit now ready to be worn...
Born again and coming into the light...
And out of the shadows...
And into a place of more shadows...
Realizing that I'm still a shadow...
Casted behind...
Sometimes in other directions...
A constant inspiration...
A reminder of creation...
And destruction...
And that sunlight touches structures...
Like architects that sketch...
A dog will fetch anything at his master's request...
A short journey of nothingness...
Embodying master's something-ness...
My nice warm shirt on cool fall days...
Where a woman may need comfort...
Or a reminder of her own black power...
A power dormant and powered like the sun...
Revealed in due time...
Childhood rhymes to inspire drunkards...
Those that crave death...
And also crave happiness to sleep quietly...
To dream of white cranes and blue herons...
Remembering the nature of the limitless...
A star unaware that it is indeed a whole galaxy...
Resting at the bottom of my cup...
I drink up...


doM

CUTTING RIBBONS

A couple throws of earth...
To celebrate the grand opening...
A leaving behind of the old...
And stepping forward...
The buildings begin to rise...
The structure no  longer a structure...
But now and continues to be just that...
To leave behind the blueprint...
To put aside the T-square...
And see what has been learned...
And see what comes out...
Missteps are necessary...
Setbacks essential...
Five back and Ten forward...
To prepare for the Grand of all Grands...
Beyond basket weaving...
Beyond creative visualization...
The Director sets all parts in motion...
Moons and Oceans...
Synchronicity of cities and planners...
Of plants and power...
Of threads and fabrics...
Moving beyond all that the farmer has taught...
Taking all that was learned...
Ancient to New Landscapes...
Where abstract is non-existent...
Let the builders build...
The craftsmen and skilled laborers...
Helping the chief...
Of the village and of the firm...
Of the land and of the Grand Design...
And a beautiful ribbon worth cutting...
A toast to designing the impossible...


doM

SEX REQUIRED

Opposite behaviors...
Always inspired...
Understanding before he writes...
The deeds will be done...
Elephants listen carefully...
They digest fully before they give birth...
Pineapple eaten whole...
And when nature is known...
The unknowing begins...
A sweet fuck...
Between the sky and the cloud...
Elliptical positions required for the sweetest...
Of tastes and torments...
Of climaxes...
Planets striking nothing but space...
Nothing...
But nothing simply for the eyes...
For the sake of real illusions...
Where children run everywhere...
A supreme testicle...
A womb filled with golden walls...
And plenty of rooms with stained windows...
Painted with a beautiful phallic symbol...
The whole world craves just a taste...
To drink every ounce...
To bathe every tooth...
To visit the booth and confess...
Fresh catches of fish for the starving...
And mercury for those seeking longevity...
And two wholes coming together to create another...
And not losing themselves...
Engaged and addicted to daytime sex...
A place where the left and the right created a straight line...


doM

A MOLECULE OF CHARIOTS

Where there is a design...

There is an eyeball...

A petty one...

One made by another one...

To which all speak of an immortal one...

Using words to describe no words...

The child moves to the mountain...

To cultivate his silence...

To silence the chariots that drive everywhere...

It is a large kingdom...

Infinite and unseen...

No longer is he satisfied...

Seeing only the outskirts and landscapes...

And in taking vows...

Every hair is cut...

The roots grow deeper...

In the ocean so soft...

A destroyer with creative hands...

Molding the land...

No observer...

No technique...

No leak in the ceiling...

The home remains perfect...

Going upwards to kiss grass...

Grass that kisses clouds...

And clouds that kiss a clear way...

For one and not all...

But for all a balanced molecule...

Broken while stranded together...

Making treasure out of the junk...

And drinking water from the moat, in the kingdom...

doM

GONE TO THE START

From the tail to the mouth...

Naked to clothed...

Buttons serve well on double-breasted overcoats...

But alone the possibilities are endless...

A tendency to be soft or hard...

Mothers lean towards discipline...

And the Father's demeanor is quiet...

Saying everything in the quiet...

After he speaks...

From marathon to olympics...

The suit is jettisoned and picked up again...

Feathers are everywhere...

A bird still performing functions...

Because love became obsolete...

The Lover did it again and again...

Pinky up on a tea cup...

For old times sake...

Long time lonely times...

Straining and purifying the herbs...

So that the tortoise may beat the hare...

While riding on that serpent...

No bigger than the spine of an ant...

Utter disgust for the book holding truth...

From the nothing, and into the bookshelf...

The student reads to learn...

Only to unlearn, learn and unlearn...

Touched by the words of the song...

He craves peace and clarity...

Perplexed...

He carries his ignorance back to the start...

doM

SONGS FROM THE HOUSE

There was a time when dance parties were enough...

Grace with no pressure...

Pressure with no constant...

A flower with no leaves...

Dried and ready...

I brought them to the house after work...

And a sneaky pluck of another's guitar...

The wedding photos also sing...

A melody...

Memories of the vows taken...

The do's and don'ts of a maintaining a happy home...

We keep the imperfections in the yard...

My children love cutting the lawn...

Watering the lavender patches..

And chasing butterflies that chase nothing...

Blowing fragments of grass...

The oxygen is so sweet...

Cheekbones and mouths fill with smiles...

Merely an overflowing water bucket...

Yes we all drink from the well...

It is a fresh drink...

For travelers that have no speakers at home...

For nomads that hear nothing but heartbeats...

Our home is open for all...

So come with me...

Sing while you sleep...

Dirty your feet...

Filthy your hands...

Make the bed, if you want...

doM

RARE SPECIES

Only one in the entire rainforest...
New colors...
Different traits...
Same qualities as the rest...
Used differently...
With a choice to take life...
And another to give it...
It is a galaxy in the universe...
We've never seen up close...
Only sightings...
Mainly rumors...
Ancient tribes know of it...
But they cling not...
Mycelium giving birth to the fungus...
But never preparing its shape and qualities...
Not before the raindrop...
Not before the dead tree trunk...
Not before the sun...
Not before the projector is plugged in...
And the image is revealed...
A sworn enemy will follow...
To eat the remains of its meal...
No two light bulbs the same...
But a socket is needed...
A symphony vibrating on the same wind...
As that produced by the tree...
As that produced by the rare species...
Sacred is the song too fine to hear...
Chirping and roaring...
All are still confused...
As good as dead...
As it has never been heard before...


doM